I reach the end of the hallway, carefully opening the door to theholding room.
 
 And there she is.
 
 Closing the door quietly, I inch closer until I can see her properly in the darkness.
 
 She’s curled into herself, one hand tucked under her cheek, the other lost somewhere beneath the massive hoodie swallowing her frame. Her knees are pulled up, baggy tracksuit pants bunched around her legs. She looks like she's hiding inside her clothes, as if the fabric is the only armour she has.
 
 To my annoyance, I can understand their fixation now.
 
 Even like this… sheisbeautiful.
 
 Not the kind of beauty that shouts.
 
 The quiet kind. Classy. Innocent. Sweet.Dangerous.
 
 Shiny blonde hair spills over her shoulders and onto the pillow, catching slivers of moonlight like threads of gold.
 
 There's a small crease between her brows, full lips parted slightly. Her chest rising and falling in the slow rhythm of someone who doesn't trust sleep enough to fall deeply into it.
 
 There's a light dusting of freckles across her cheeks I hadn’t noticed until now. It makes her look more innocent than she probably is. Softer.
 
 Soft.
 
 Ihatethat word. It's just another variant ofvulnerable.Breakable. And breakable gets people killed.
 
 Myles loves my dominance, but he did always like submission in girls. It makes sense why he’s obsessed with this one.
 
 Crossing my arms over my chest, I lean against the wall beside the bars, telling myself I'm just making sure she's still breathing. That I'm assessing her health.It's routine.
 
 So, this is the little creature that’s been driving my men mad.
 
 Looking at her now, it's hard to reconcile the image that Zane painted. She looks too sweet. Not manipulative andcalculated. Just… powerless.
 
 But obviously brave enough to continue trying to survive.
 
 A tight knot begins to form in my chest. I can't tell if it's frustration, guilt, or something darker.
 
 The cut on my palm throbs as my pulse picks up. I couldn’t feel anything over the noise in my head earlier, but I feel it now.
 
 As I watch her sleep, I can’t help wondering what her body looks like without all those clothes. Or what her voice sounds like when it isn't shaking. What would it feel like to touch her hair? To see those lips part not because of fear but something else…
 
 She’s not just a threat to the group—she’s a threat to me.
 
 Fuck,I shouldn't be thinking like this!Not when I know exactly what men like me become when we let those kinds of thoughts slip through. Not when I know she won’t last long in this world anyway.
 
 This is how it starts. First, a thought. Then before you know it, you’ve done something you can’t undo.
 
 Dragging a hand over my face, I curse under my breath.
 
 It was a mistake to come in here. She's not my problem. Not part of our group.
 
 But I’d do a damn good job keeping her breathing. If I wanted to…
 
 No, I can't go down this road again. She needs to go. Soon.
 
 I don’t know how she’s survived this long but she can keep doing whatever it was before she started leeching off us.
 
 Then I wonder, just for a millisecond, what it would be like to see her with her eyes open again. Awake. Looking at me.